“Hey, Coach. I need to talk to you about something.” His eyes darken with suspicion. “Why are you looking at me like that?” “Because anytime one of you dumbasses comes to talk to me about something, it’s something that fucking annoys me.” He waves me in. “What’s this about?” I stand in front of his desk, awkwardly sliding my hands in my pockets. “Um.” “Spit it out, Lindley.” “So there’s this dance competition,” I start. “Fuck’s sake.” He puts down his pen. “See? What did I tell you?”
